


What Happens in Vegas

by thatotherperv



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Drunken Mistakes, Las Vegas, M/M, Woke Up Gay, Woke Up Married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-12
Updated: 2007-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-02 01:32:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatotherperv/pseuds/thatotherperv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes up in Vegas with a wedding ring on his finger.  Oddly, not his biggest problem...</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens in Vegas

**Author's Note:**

> hellziggy wanted Spike/Dean in Las Vegas.
> 
> Original post [here](http://thatotherperv.livejournal.com/136661.html#cutid4)

He awoke to a foul taste in his mouth and neon lights casting a glow through the window of a cheap motel room.

There was a body in the bed next to him. It wasn’t Sam. It wasn’t female.

And they were naked.

Dean stared dumbfounded at the pale, bare chest and fucking…Zack Morris bleach job on steroids. His head was throbbing, and he was pretty sure a squirrel had met its demise on his tongue. 

And he really had to piss.

He threw back the covers and stumbled to the bathroom, an almighty sigh of relief blowing from his lungs as he emptied his bladder. It wasn’t until he stood at the sink, unwrapping the hotel soap, that he noticed the band on his left ring finger.

He had a flash of leaning drunkenly in front of a man with a robe. Something had been very, very funny.

No. Uh-uh. No way he did that. This was what he kept Sam around for. Speaking of which, where the _fuck_ was Sam?

“Mornin’, Sunshine.” The only thing capable of ripping Dean’s attention from his _wedding ring_ was the hard smack laid on his ass by…who the fuck _was_ this guy? “Christ, you look like hell, mate. All I have to say is, thank fuck I don’t get hangovers.”

It registered belatedly that his bedmate was bright-eyed and chipper, just as the stranger molded himself to his back, hard-on wedging between his cheeks…and then it registered, somewhat insanely, that his ass was sore.

“What the fuck….”

A very talented hand closed around his dick, and his head lolled in pleasure, eyes rolling back as hot breath ghosted over his exposed ear. 

He caught another flash…a bathroom stall and a clever tongue.

“What the….” His eyes drifted open.

He was the only one in the mirror.

His head spun, and an arm looped around his waist, holding him upright. “You’re a vampire,” he croaked out…fairly sure that should sound more accusatory. Family duty called on account of hand-job.

He felt lips curve against his ear. The dark chuckle sent a shudder of something other than fear down his spine.

“You’re a quick one. But is that any way to speak to your hubby?”


End file.
